It's amazing how distracted you can get from something so beautiful, be it old or new.
This must be where I'm supposed to be, this must be what I was supposed to find. Why else would I have decided to walk such a long way to school even though I was running extremely late as it was? I remember not listening to my gut instincts as they ferociously tried to get me to turn back around as I walked further down the path laid out for me to follow, away from my much more familiar usual route, down sullen back streets and gloomy alley ways only feeling a sense of intrigue and adventure.
I peer down at my watch barely noticing that I was already seventeen minutes late for school, pushing all thoughts of my impending punishments to the back of my head, I take a step forward.
I am now closer to the reason of my rebelliousness. I look up at the wonder standing before me, Runcorn town church. Scanning the surface of the church I am automatically drawn to the breath takingly large stained glass windows, featuring various men I did not know the names of. I'm assuming they are disciples or saints. As the sun beats down onto the glass a bleak amount of it reflects off them due to the large amount of dirt and bird droppings that has been left to build up.
The crumbling walls are holding up well for a church this age and that has been left unloved for this amount of time. I reach my hand out to the small rusty gate which is closed to stop people, like myself, from entering but nothing can stop me now....
"STOP" Screamed the voice inside my head, "REMEMBER!"
Of course I remember. Remember the stories that my best friend Chelsea had etched into my mind no more than a fortnight ago-
We had been taking about our favourite ghost stories and films, I had just mentioned the tale that an very old manor house back, where I was born and raised, was allegedly haunted.
Chelsea let out a sigh "That's nothing compared to the church, you know the one quite far out near all the farm land and countryside?" bewildered I had replied no. "Seriously?! How could you not have? How long have you been living here? About three years now? " she said giggling at my apparent blindness. I urged her to reveal more, which caused her to grab hold of my phone to shine under her face in a menacing sort of way- which only caused me to let out a series of giggles.
"Right, this story is set many many years ago not exactly sure when but whatever, there was a family of five that lived in the church. The man was the pastor and was adored by the entire town, apart from his wife. One day there was a wedding taking place in the church but it turned out to be a case of the runaway bride. Of course the groom was distraught that his wife-to-be had left him at the alter and waited at the church for the entire day." she looked at my bemused face and laughed.
"As each guest left the groom slowly gave up hope, the pastor seeing how distraught he was and fearing the worst of the bride, he left the groom in the capable hands of his wife as he set off to the police. The wife led the groom back to their living quarters and filled the kettle up with water and set it above the blistering fire to boil" Chelsea stopped to take a sip of her own cup of tea eyeing up the scepticism in my face.
"She must have been extremely sick of her obviously boring life as the pastors wife so she tried it on with groom! He pushed her off sickened and tried to leave, she continued with all her might but he never surrendered. Embarrassed and livid with anger she turned around and took ahold of the still scorching kettle and hit him hard in the temple causing instant death." She takes a breath and closes her eyes as if she was trying to remember the rest of the story.
"Mad as a hatter she ran into her five year old daughters room and smothered her with a pillow, her eldest daughter who was twelve heard what was going on and ran out of her room, she grabbed her littlest sister a four month old and fled the church.The woman who knew she was going to be found out stumbled out into the main body of the church and hung her self. The pastor came back to find three dead bodies in his church and not knowing the where abouts of his other two children, he had a heart attack and died four days later a lonely man. Apparently her ghost haunts the church now and will kill anyone that step foot in there..four days later. Well I guess the moral of the story is that you shouldn't kill people!" she had laughed.
But they were only fairy tales, all of them, and this was reality. Ignoring my memories I pushed the gate open which, caused a few fragments of black paint to rub off onto my palm and stepped through onto the rickity stones which formed a pathway to the massive church doors.